Okay, how many fake names can you catch here? You may have to watch twice, especially during the anniversary section, where they dropped the middle initials. This kind of thing happens all the time in broadcasting. Continue reading for more examples, plus some real names that are just as good.

Hey Ernie been a fan since I believe I was a preteen and I'm 21 now so you raised me lol. I've wrote in a few times but this time its a youtube vid that was on my favorite youtube channel and I think it will be gross to some of your viewers, or make the Asian ones hungry... but its a cat on its back like a human pushing out kittens and the guy Dave sometimes pulls the membrane from around the kittens faces so they can get air and shit. Mary

“Videos of cats puking?” you say? “How many of those could possibly exist?” Allow us to answer on behalf of the entire internet by saying “Thousands.” That’s right. Literally dozens of brilliant film auteurs had the luck of being in the right place at the right time… the right place being “in front of their cat”, the right time being “when that cat is throwing up.”

This is what happens when an AMV creator with way too much time on his hands makes a video for the gun enthusiast. Oh and btw, the guy who played Lorne on Angel is dead. Geoff

The speed at which a car will sink depends on several factors, including the distance of the fall, speed and angle of entry and the physical characteristics of the vehicle. Most entries of vehicles into the water are smooth entries with the water cushioning the blow. Most people survive the initial impact with minimal or no injury at all. If you remain relatively calm there should be enough time for you to take action to save your life and the lives of your passengers. Newer cars that are better at keeping sound out will likely also be better at keeping water out. Most vehicles will float for a minute or two before beginning to sink. Cars usually sink at an angle, with the weight of the engine pulling down the front first. A rear-engine car sinks trunk-first.

Hey Ernie, ya sick fuck. My wife and I use to spend some time up at Lake Morton here in Lakeland. Mating season was always an active time at the lake. We managed to snap off a few pics you might enjoy. We haven't been back to the lake in some time. The swans had become very aggressive and managed to draw blood a few times. Fuckers. Nowadays, we spend our free time at the range. My wife and I put over 30,000 rounds down range last year. We're both avid supports of the Second Amendment. My wife is a complete natural when it comes to pistols. She fired her first round in Nov 2007 and fell in love with .45acp! Here's one of her targets at 7 yards. Me, well, I love my SIG X-Five Competition. I manage to do all right with it. If you're ever up in Tampa and want to put some rounds down range, let me know. We're always happy to meet fellow shooters! Kacey

Peter Griffin seemingly has it all: good friends, a healthy family, and a hot redheaded wife he has managed to hang onto despite his arguable weight problem. I think we can all learn a thing or two about living, loving and drinking from the simplistic thinking of this fine specimen of a man. You may now enjoy these tidbits of worldly wisdom in the only appropriate format, Peter Griffon motivational posters.

And with baby Stewie in office, he's obviously going to have a few enemies so here's a little list of people he'd kill. Of course this clip was censored and didn't air in its entirety (until now) because let's be honest, who doesn't want to kill HBO for that fucking cut to black? And while we're on the topic of cut scenes, remember that butt sex is different. This is going to be awesome.

I've always said that anyone who tries to convince you they go to Hooters for the wings is a fucking liar because quite frankly, their wings are horrible. I can think of a few places where the wings are notably better, beginning with and ending with my local bowling alley. So here are eight "breastaurants" to go to instead of Hooters.

Ducks Get Randy At Sunset.

Some of you might remember my story about Peepers and Crackers from a couple of years ago. Well, undaunted by her past failure, momma duck brought along eight new duckings at the tail end of 2008 and me being the big pussy that I am have kind of adopted the bunch. I'm happy to say all eight survived this year and most of which have flown off to make little Muscovy families of their own. One female duck has hung around although that isn't by her choice, as her right wing was injured as a duckling and because it didn't heal correctly it; just sort of drags along on the ground. I don't know if it was the result of a run in with a turtle, a car, or maybe another animal, but the injury ultimately robbed her of the ability to fly. Not that she knows it; she flaps her wings with the best of em, she just can't get off the ground. But no worry, because Lefty will always have a warm bed to sleep in as long as I'm around.

And since she's a regular in my back yard come stale bread time, I thought it'd be a good idea for her and Ike to get acquainted. Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Ike is a Patterdale terrier; a hunting dog. So there's no way he's going to get a long with an animal that really equates to prey." And normally you'd be right except you obviously have no idea how much Ike loves food. Any food. Meat, potatoes, carrots, corn, pickles, lemons, limes, oranges, shrimp, crab, rice, beans, pizza, tomatoes, hot sauce... you name it, he'll eat it. He's very motivated by food. So with a few stern warnings of , "Easy... Easy... Be nice." I had him sitting down and eating bread next to Lefty in no time. In fact, dare I say the two have bonded a little? That's not to say that Ike doesn't make the occasional run at Lefty, causing her to run/waddle/flap out of the way, but I'm pretty sure it's all in good fun. So yeah, me and Ike watch out for Lefty.

So Friday night as I was sitting out on the back lanai watching the sun go down, it came to no surprise that Lefty came streaking into my back yard. Only this was no ordinary run/waddle/flap because she thought the dinner bell was ringing, she was really hauling what little ass she could. Hot on her tail (literally) were two big dark Muscovy ducks, both of which I will presume to be male. Now I know it's getting towards mating season, and Mother Nature has her ways of doing things, but c'mon man. I opened the door and took a few steps towards Lefty and she turned towards me with her two suitors in hot pursuit. Lefty continued past me, putting myself between her and the two males, both of whom seemed quite perplexed by the addition of a human being into their mating ritual. I raised my arms and took a few quick steps towards them and they turned and quickly beat feet back to the pond. I turned to give Lefty a thumbs up and returned to my beer on the back deck to once again enjoy the silence.

Silence which was quite short lived actually, as the sun had barely crept ten minutes lower when the previous scene of duck debauchery had escalated to a new level. The larger of the two ducks was chasing Lefty around the pond and each time he'd get close she'd dive underwater only to emerge twenty feet away or so. And then he'd make a run at her, only to have her dive away again. This unholy courtship continued for awhile before an exhausted Lefty couldn't swim anymore and had to return to the land. With her larger pursuer right behind her, it wasn't too long before he had Lefty pinned down in my neighbor's bushes, humping her little duck ass for all he was worth, while she was screeching in dismay. The second smaller male duck was standing by watching the action, patiently waiting his turn. I hesitated for a second before intervening, knowing hey this is nature but hey, somebody has got to teach these two assholes that no means no. And again I open the side screen door and take a few noisy stomps towards the two ducks forcing themselves upon my little mascot. Small Voyeur duck sees me coming and gets the hell out of dodge back towards the pond. Humping Duck sees me coming too, but doesn't break off mid coitus, presumably because he was too close to blowing his load. As a guy I felt a little bad for him, but broke up the festivities none the less; Humping Duck running for the lake and Lefty running towards the front of my house where she would circle around and return to the safety of the pond.

The sun crept lower and it was beginning to get somewhat dark out; Voyeur Duck and Humping Duck were no longer ducks but just duck like shadows moving on the grass. I'd walk around in my back of my lanai to get a better view of the battlefield and occasionally have to step out and make my presence known as they started to draw close to Lefty again, but I knew I was fighting a losing battle. With what little light left bleeding from the sky I knew that lefty would soon be at the mercy of these two duck rapists, as my human eyes were quite useless in the ever increasing darkness. Even now I was struggling to maintain the distinction of the two dark shadows against their background. Once I could no longer see to protect her, Lefty would be defenseless. It was then that from behind me a high pitched anxious whine drew my attention. I turned to look towards the house and after letting my eyes adjust for a second saw Ike standing behind the screen, eyed fixed like lasers at the two dark shadows. His eyes shot up to mine for a split second and then returned to his quarry. The corner of my mouth curled upwards as a sly smile pursed my lips. Ike was right. Humans had no place in this war. It was time for him to continue where I have left off. Mano-a-mano. Nature vs nature. An even battlefield.

I returned to my back deck not in defeat, but in wait. it didn't take too long before the two dark shadows began to make their way back towards Lefty, who was watching nervously from her nest in the rocks. I knelt down next to Ike and began to run my hand down his back which was now as rigid as stone; his muscles twitching and waiting for the moment to explode. One of his ears trembled as he could feel the anticipation building. The ducks grew closer still, oh yes. Ike began to shift his weight between his front paws, lifting one and then the other. My hand reached up to the screen door and slowly began to press the handle down. Missing nothing, Ike stole a quick upwards glance at my hand and new it was close to Go Time. I whispered in his ear, "What? What is that? Watch em. Watch em Ike, watch em..." His shifting of the weight grew to encompass his rear legs as well. He was like a top fuel dragster with his engine redlined, just waiting for the Christmas tree to go green. Down at the water Lefty had raised her head up and was beginning to stir in her nest, knowing she would soon be on the run again as the two male Muscovies had broken into a slow trot towards her. And as they broke from a trot to a full on run, two things happened simultaneously; Lefty started running towards the refuge of my back porch and I slipped the latch of the screen door.

Ike exploded like a motherfucking bullet.

He didn't growl. He didn't bark. In fact the only sound he made was a silent shooshing sound as he flew through the grass. Lefty never even saw him coming; had Ike been after her she never would have had a chance. By the time she saw Ike, he was already past her, making a silent line towards the two advancing males. Poor Lefty didn't know whether to shit or go blind and the surprise of this turn of events sent her scurrying in a frenzy of run/waddle/flaps to my left, further down the pond. And if I thought I saw confusion on the face of a duck when a human entered his mating ritual? Shit, you ought to see it when a fucking dog enters the mix. Humping Duck was in the lead with Voyeur Duck behind him and to his left. True to his name, Voyeur Duck saw Ike coming first but kept advancing; remember I said he was Voyeur Duck, not Smart Duck. Humping Duck saw the advancing threat a split second later and immediately performed a u-turn in mid step, breaking into a run/waddle/flap retreat of his own. In a scene reminiscent of Spike and Chester, once the smaller Voyeur Duck saw his big buddy had reversed course, he quickly did the same.

Mother Nature is an amazing thing to watch. The ducks' flocking instincts took over, and when Humping Duck made a sudden surge to his right, Voyeur Duck did the same. They zigged and zagged together and it was really quite beautiful. Seeing this, Ike immediately adjusted course to both close the distance as quickly as possible and cut the ducks off from turning too much and causing him to overshoot because of his heavier frame. The two ducks surged left in response to this and the three of them began a mystical prey/predator dance as the ducks fought to escape. This was my first time really seeing Ike in his element, and somehow it made me feel almost proud. And while I don't know the exact speed of a duck's run/waddle/flap method of escape, I can assure you it is not as fast as a dog who is intent on kicking a little duck ass.

Now, left to his own devices Ike would surely kill these two motherfuckers, so I knew I had to call him off early. I wanted them scared off, not maimed or dead. So when he was about three paces behind I called out, "Ike. No." and to his credit he (almost) broke off his pursuit. I know he heard me because I saw his gate break for a split second. But as he was carrying too much speed, overtaking the ducks was inevitable at this point. I again called out "Ike, Dammit, No." just as he was stretching his neck out and chomped down right on Humping Duck's ass, causing Humping Duck to quack out in both surprise and pain. Upon seeing his alpha duck taking enemy fire, Voyeur Duck broke ranks and made a hard right turn. This caught Ike's attention and he released Humping Duck long enough for Humping Duck to make one final run/waddle/flap to the safety of the pond. He landed with a splash and immediately began shaking his ass.

Back on terra firma, Ike had turned his full attention to Voyeur Duck who was trying to make headway on a course parallel with the shoreline. This was a mistake as Ike's groundspeed was much faster. I remember thinking, "Boy, this is a really dumb duck." Again I called to Ike, more urgently this time, as I was beginning to wonder if things were going to end poorly for this little fellow. Voyeur Duck made one final change of course, turning right and heading away from the water (dumb duck!) before Ike barreled into him at full gallop. Now Ike's mouth was open, but I'm pretty sure my yelling was having an impact on getting him dialed down, because he didn't chomp down like he did with Humping Duck, he just ran into him sending Voyeur Duck tumbling ass over teakettle. Ike came to a stop and just watched as Voyeur Duck did his best to gather himself and again run further down the grassline, parallel to the water. Jesus, this duck is fucking stupid.

Ike stood watching him go and a couple of times I saw his body tense like he was going to take off after the escaping duck again, causing me to utter a stern "Ike. No." in his direction. Ike did as he was told and the two of us watched Voyeur Duck make his way back to the water and regroup with now Sore Ass Duck. The two of them swam in circles around each other a few times and then began to swim towards the other side of the pond. I briefly considered calling Ike back to me, but given Lefty was nearby and Ike was so amped up, eh, wasn't sure of that was a good idea. I mean hey a dog is a dog, right? I walked out and scooped Ike up could still feel him trembling with the thrill of the chase. As I walked back towards my house, Ike never took his eyes off the two shadows making their way across the pond. A low growl emanated from his throat -- a throat that would soon be soothed by a small bowl of ice cream, by the way -- and his nostrils flared and gorged on the sweet smell of asskicking that hung in the air. Yes, Ike sent the residents of the pond a message that night, a very loud and clear message: NOBODY FUCKS WITH LEFTY.

Hi Ernie, Long time reader, multiple time donor, and multiple time contributor. I took some of my co-workers to an indoor firing range here in the Bay Area. They were all "green", so after a very STERN safety lecture, and crash course on firearm usage, we did a round-robbin starting with a Remmington .22, moving onto a Glock .9mm, and ending wtih a Glock .45. Attached is a really lucky shot that I got while one of the guys was firing the Glock 45. Check out the flames! No Photoshop trickery here. I hope you use it! Cheers Jake

The fun contonues, but first and update on our most recent game challenge. Currently out in front is Chandler with 111,900 and James right on his tail with 102,700. Tomorrow ill be the final day for Quix.

After laughing at Joe Pesci's head explode in the movie Casino, we wanted to put together a list of the funniest videos created through the magic of editing. And i if you're a fan of Gay Top Gun, don't miss the eight funniest recut movie trailers.

Ernie, Big fan since 1999! Funny you should post about Bob Crane considering his homicide is one of the more bizarre cases out there. If you want some shock value, get a load of Crane's crime scene pics. Keep up the good work you sicko! -Pete

One of the great traditions of Opening Day is the Presidential first pitch, which was started in 1910 by President Taft. Not all of these guys (including Obama) have done it as President, but they've all done it. Here are 18 pictures of Presidents throwing out the first pitch at baseball games. By the way, JFK threw like a fag.

Let Me Tell You About The Best Job Ever.

The best job I've ever had was at a small place called Frederick Computers Plus, right after I separated from the Air Force. It was a small support company, with great pay and benefits and located in a fantastic facility with heated underground parking and a gourmet cafeteria. But one of the things that made FCP life so unique was their pay structure; they called it a 90/10 Plan. What they meant was you'd get 90% of your negotiated salary in regular bi-weekly paychecks. The remaining 10% would be paid as a monthly bonus which could either increase, or decrease based upon your productivity. And benchmarking that productivity was very easy and straightforward. I'll ass'plain:

There were three tiers of engineers within the Enterprise Support Line where I worked: and thus each tier was required to maintain certain levels of producivity per week: Associate Technical Support Analyst - 32 hours, Technical Support Analyst - 34 hours, and Senior Technical Support Analyst - 36 hours. That's not to say you could fuck off the other portion of your time, that was just your weekly goal. So for a 160 hour, an Associate Tech was required to "be productive" for at least 128 hours (32 hours x 4 weeks); if he or she was able to document 110% producivity for the month (about 35 hours a week) then they'd receive 110% of their bonus. Going full bore and getting a full 40 hours a week (125% of your goal) for the entire month? Why that would earn you 125% of your bonus. And when you crossed into overtime -- I'll get to that in a minute -- the dollars really racked up fast. Of course if you jerked off and only hit 90% of your productivity goal, you fucked yourself because now you only received 90% of your bonus. It was the ultimate in positive reinforcement; there wasn't any passing of the buck or people trying to skate out from their responsibilities since everything you did directly impacted that almighty bonus check.

So what counted as "productive" time? Given we were all customer support people, each time we closed a support case it was worth 2.56 hours. That number was the mathematical average of the time it took to close all the cases over the previous year, and although it was adjusted annually never really varied too far from that figure. So here's the good news: Mr. Customer calls up and asks a simple question on a software patch. I provide him with said patch info and Mr. Customer says, "Ok, thanks." Awesome, that two minutes worth of work just netted me 2.56 hours of productivity! Woo hoo! Here's the bad news: Mr. Customer calls up and says, "My server is on fucking fire." Great. Now I have to coordinate hardware replacement, find an resource to go onsite and effect the repairs so that I can reinstall the customer's network operating system, patch it up to current levels, restore all of their data, and perform some stability testing. Yep, you got it. The next twelve hours I spend on the phone would net me exactly 2.56 hours of productivity. So some days you ate the bear, some days the bear ate you. All said and done, 2.56 hours was a pretty generous number, though. Of course productivity could also be earned through other means; studying for certifications, performing onsite visits for cases that belonged to other engineers, moving equipment around the office or attending company meetings. Hell, we could even put in one hour of productivity for actually doing our productivity spreadsheet. So it wasn't uncommon for some engineers to achieve 140% or even 150% productivity for a given month.

Now let's talk about overtime. Being a customer support environment, we obviously received calls 24 hours a day, and thus there were always people on call for after hours support which was outside of our 7am-7pm window. God I loved the sound of that fucking beeper. Anyway, since we were salaried employees we didn't have any hourly rate to base our overtime on, so this is how FCP handled addressed the issue. We had two kinds of support calls: contract and non-contract. Contract folks had signed support agreements with FCP for a given level of support. Some customers were 24x7, some were 7am-7pm Monday through Friday, some no holidays, some were only software or only hardware... pretty much if you can think of a variance, someone had signed a contract for it. Suffice to say that when an after hours call came in it invariably fell under one of those two categories, contract (billed to the customer at $100 an hour) or or non-contract (billed at $150 an hour). When the call extended after midnight and up until 6am, -- or anytime during the weekend -- billing rates were automatically doubled to $200/$300 an hour. And the after hours engineer performing the support saw a portion of that money. How much? Well that all depended on said engineer's productivity, of course! As memory serves the cutoffs were: 100% of your productivity goal yielded you 25% of the billed overtime fees, 105% productivity got you 30%, and 110% productivity was the maximum at 35%.

So when my beeper went off at 1am and I sat there on the phone with a non-contract customer ($300 an hour) walking him through a four hour software reinstallation ($1200 billed), and I had already hit my productivity numbers for the month (110%), I was banking an extra $420 for my trouble. And the best part? FCP had a twelve hour rule; if you were up after hours on a customer call you weren't required to be back in the office until twelve hours after that call ended. So when my software reinstall ended at 5am I had two choices; I could grab a couple hours sleep and head into work (more productivity!) or relax and essentially take the day off. One of my fondest memories was a weekend support call for Shipley corporation where I spent 18 hours straight rebuilding two of their Compaq servers. I was elbow deep in a RAID array when one of the managers from our Philadelphis office called me up and asked me if I wanted to be relieved so I could go home and get some sleep. Relieved?! At $105 an hour? I said fuck no. I gleefully powered through it and collected my fat ass overtime check, thank you very much.

Soon after I got was hired on, FCP Technologies was bought out by Entex Information Services, who allowed our bonus structure to continue for another year or so. But as with most corporate buyouts, all good things came to an end. First we received the disturbing news that our monthly bonuses would becomee quarterly bonuses, and before too long, no bonuses at all. Then Entex's management became more concerned about following their stupid processes than they did about actually taking care of the customer. Suffice to say it was almost as disappointing as when I got dumped by Carmel Electra -- trust me you'd be disappointed too, especially when you consider how awesome Carmen looks topless in Mexico's Maxim. And when money no longer fell from the skies, Entex which was in turn bought out by Siemens and I don't know what happened to my beloved Enterprise Support Line after that. Oddly enough, the original fcptech.com domain lives on, although it's for some company in the UK now. Ahhh, the tech boom of the late 90's, you'll forever be close in my heart.

Ernie - This sign is in East Texas on a tiny road heading toward Dallas. I got a kick out of it, I thought you might enjoy it. Best, Rob

Hey Ernie, I've sent in a few things before (USS Wisconsin in dry dock pics) and thought you might like this one. I snapped this pic on my way to work Monday morning. I don't know what the fuck this thing is, I suspect it has something to do with some very high voltage power distribution, but, it passed me on I-40 heading west in Shelby County Tennessee doing about 80 mph. Looks like somehting out of a Sci-Fi movie to me. Love this site and happy as hell that the edgy shit is back! Keep up the good work Big E! Mike S. Arlington Tennessee

Sign posted on a telephone pole in New Orleans. Considering the neighborhood I was in, that chicken is dead. Hope you can use it. Charles

It's Open To Any College. Um, Any College... >Thump<

Syncope is the medical term for fainting, a sudden, usually temporary, loss of consciousness generally caused by insufficient oxygen in the brain either through cerebral hypoxia or through hypotension, but possibly for other reasons such as stress. Typical symptoms progress through dizziness, clamminess of the skin, a dimming of vision or brownout, possibly tinnitus, complete loss of vision, weakness of limbs to physical collapse. These symptoms falling short of complete collapse, or a fall down, may be referred to as a syncoptic episode. Still don't get it? Here, the lovely Nikki Allen will demonstrate for us.

Ernie, Long time reader of your site. I have a few cases of this wonder cream coming in, though some of your readers might be interested. Amazing what the Chinese have developed. Doug

Ernie, Greetings and salutations from Okieland. I'm looking for a place to live, at least short term. The weather has gone and lost its mind again. I moved to Oklahoma to get away from the cold. You can click the video on the right, but I'll give you the long and short of it. Today we'll be near 70 with a risk of tornadoes. Tomorrow we are to be afraid of a foot of snow. WTF!!! As far as rent goes, I'll pay tourist rates! Rob

Hey Ernie, Big fan and love the site. Always puts a smile on my face and wood in the shorts. Keep up the good work! After reading about you and your buddy mocking tards, I felt I needed to finally confess and come clean. First off, I am a Republican but the more I see of Obama the more I like him. He admits to getting high and you can bet behind closed doors he can speak fluent Tardanese. I can relate to him. Nice to see someone in the White House who is not another fucking corporate robot. I just hope his agenda works out for all of our sakes. The reason for my writing is not the Obama comment but more a confession and a hard lesson I learned while practicing Tardanese in my youth. I am currently 50 years old. I practiced TDanese from 8 to 16 years old but have had occasional relapses throughout my life. My favorite favorite place to practice was while shopping at crowded malls with my Mom. I would pull the hand to the chest, knock my knees, cock my head, and drag one foot. My Mom would get pissed, slap me and tell me to knock it off. I would start saying, "Don't hit me Mommy". I know it sounds sick but god I had fun doing it. I never really gave much thought to my actions. I mean, I wasn't physically hurting anyone. That all changed when I was in my mid 20's. I was playing on a Tournament softball team and we traveled all over playing. After one of the tourneys we went over to a team mate Darren house to party it up. Darren had recently got remarried to this HOT chick Carol. When they were asking me to come over, Carol commented that her older sister knew me from school. You know what I was thinking. 'Gonna get me strange tonight!' I get to the party and Carol asks me to come into one of the bedrooms. I am thinking, 'ohhh yeah.' She opens the door and says, Bob this is my sister Robin, do you remember her? God has a sense of humor and what goes around comes around. I did remember her sister. She was a retarded girl from elementary school that I would occasionally tease. She smiled and said, "Hi Bob," all shy like. Feeling like the lowest piece of whale shit, I pulled it together and made small talk. I made my way out of the bedroom and headed for the front door, doing my best not to be spotted. Almost made it too but I ran into my buddy Darren bringing booze into the house. he asks what was up so I came clean and told him the truth. He apologized for springing the sister thing on me but he said he just couldn't resist fucking with me. He also said, Robin really likes you and told her sister (Carol) that you were real nice and were one of the few people who talked with her at school. The experience humbled me and all but halted my use of Tardanese. The real irony of this story... five years later Darren and Carol got a divorce. I ran into her while snow skiing and she said she was hoping we would meet up. She fucked my lights out for the next couple of weeks and then disappeared. The main reason I got in her pants? "I was such a rare and sweet guy. Anyone who would treat my sister that well was special." Her words not mine! Thanks Ernie, Bob

And besides Tim, when push comes to shove, I'm the guy you want in society. Because with as abrasive as my Tard stories are, I'd take the time to stop and help one having a tough time. Granted, afterwards I'd tell this awesome tasteless story to all of my friends, but I'd help none the less. That's better than someone who silently walks by someone in obvious need of help. So there ya have it folks, proof positive; While it's a little good/news/nbad news, remember to be nice to tards. It can get you laid when you least expect it. Also from the good news/bad news department: here are the fifteen hottest Lara Croft wannabes on the internet. Immediately followed by the thirteen worst Lara Croft wannabees on the internet. The first of which? That's a man, baby!

Heya Ernie, Just a heads up (all be it a late one) When I visited the link for the rail gun, a window popped up just after clicking on the first video of that site. After closing the full screen window that popped up, my firewall turned itself off. I quickly put it back up manually, noticed a program running that didn't look right and blocked it. Well, the damage was done I guess because the computer rebooted on it's own. Unplugged the network cable, XP booted back up, firewall was off again and it had a virus warning up on the screen from XP's security center. Keep up the great work on the site, been a long time visitor. In other news, the ban on stem cell research has been lifted. Brian

Good reaction Brian, well played. I think what's becoming increasingly popular among the less reputable ad companies is when they see a page on the internet that's getting lots of hits and pulling their banners more than usual, they will sometimes sneak in some malicious code to exploit the increased traffic. It's complete bullshit, but unfortunatelty it's getting more and more common, which is why it's so important to have some sort of anti-spyware/anti-virus installed on your machines. As always, I recommend Webroot and it's what I use; it keeps me from even seeing 90% of what's out there. Of course if you're a cheap bastard there are alternatives, too but I can't vouch for their effectiveness. On a side note, McAffee Site Advisor finally got their shit straight about EHOWA. It only took what, three months?

Welcome To Hollywood. Where Everyone's Old Dreams Come True.

Touching back on yesterday's prediction that Hollywood will soon remake Hogan's Heroes, I'm convinced that American cinema is slowly but surely headed down hill. There hasn't been a really good blockbuster movie in quite awhile; everything lately seems to be one big disaster after another. Most of our good television shows either star British actors or are lame spinoffs from British television. Don't believe me? When's the last time you've seen something so entertaining as Car Darts shown on American television? Or do we have any shows that are really on par with The Loop? "Not now Love, I'm busy, fuck off." C'mon, that's classic shit right there.

No, instead we get remake after remake after remake. And most of those aren't as good as the originals, anyway. Christ even real life events are more exciting that the recent abortions that Hollywood has vomited out way; during a high speed chase on the 805 freeway in San Diego, drug dealers started dumping over $17,000 on the freeway to cause a distraction. Motorists came to a complete stop to grab the money that seemed to rain from the sky. But don't sorry Stephen Segal's Driven to Kill is going to be released this year, and I'm sure it will follow the same five rules as every other movie he's ever made.

What a great post! I grew up on Hogan’s Heroes – still catch them on rare occasion on TV Land. Of the main characters in the majority of the episodes, only Newkirk (Richard Dawson), LeBeau (Robert Clary) are still alive. So is one of Klink’s secretaries. I saw Robert Clary at an autograph signing convention a few years back – the concentration camp number (tattoo) is still clearly on his forearm from his time in a camp as a child. Both of his parents died at Auschwitz. He always had to wear long sleeves in the show to hide the tattoo. Of the cast, the biggest surprise was General Burkhalter (Leon Askin). He always looked like he was one prime rib dinner away from cardiac arrest and a stroke candidate for high blood pressure. However, he outlived most of them – he died only a few years ago in Vienna, Austria - just shy of his 98th birthday. Also, some pictures of the back lot circa 1965. Dan

Game Challenge. Your goal is to connect two or more of the same colored squares in VERTICAL lines. Note I said vertical lines, not horizontal lines. That's a lesson that took me awhile to wrap my mind around, for some reason. This one starts out slow but speeds up quick. Very Quix, in fact. So if youy can keep yourself calm, perhals you'll make past 53,000 on level 11, like I did.

Ernie, thought you might like this. Found on I-95 Southbound around Ft. Lauderdale area. Paeopan.

Hi. This may be an unusual e-mail or it may not, but anyways, I was hoping you could tell me the name of the product that Ernie wrote about and which he used personally, some sort of colon cleansing product. ( I remember he even took a picture of the end-result...ha ha) and posted it with the article he wrote. It was one where I think you had to starve yourself for like three or five days, and maybe there was apple juice involved?. If you could tell me, I'd be grateful... Thanks again. My name is Shannon P. and my number is xxx-864-5966. Have a great weekend!

Wow, I know someone's boyfriend who is going to be getting some nice clean anal this weekend. I think it's awesome how you provided me a telephone number to call and check up on your colon's progress. Good for you, Shannon, way to be a team player. The Ask Me About My Clean Colon post from way back. I think I still have that pen. Anyway, the kit came from here. Also, more eye candy: photographer Matt Hoyle was lucky enough to get some of the most interesting sideshow performers and characters still working in the industry to his NY Studio. Matt gave them a slightly vintage look of the 1940’s era when the so-called “Freak Shows” were popular forms of entertainment. Over three weeks he photographed 30 people including a giant, little people, a fat lady (it’s what she calls herself), sword swallowers, knife throwers, human blockheads, lobster clawed man, a serpent lady (who oddly enough, I find kinda hot) and more.

I. Know. Nothing. Noooooothing!

I just want to go on record for two things. As Hollywood is clearly out of ideas and has been fishing back to the 60's and 70's to recycle old sitcoms into movies, I think before too long we're going to see a silver screen version of Hogan's Heroes. Furthermore, while this movie sounds like an awesome idea at first, my second prediction is this adaption will be completely ruined when the role of Colonel Klink is given to Will Ferrell. Of course we all know that Colonel Klink was originally played by Werner Klemperer who agreed to take the role only on the condition that none of Klink's schemes would ever succeed and that he would always wind up looking foolish. Klemperer's family were German Jews who fled Nazi Germany in the 1930s, and he died in New York City on December 6th, 2002.

John Banner played another cornerstone of the show, as the oblivious yet kind hearted Nazi guard, Sergeant Shultz. In an incredible twist of fate, John Banner (also a Jew) was held in a concentration camp just prior to his release and expulsion from Nazi Occupied Germany. Keep in mind that in the early part of the Nazi control of Germany, a trip to a concentration camp was not an automatic death sentence, thus Banner was lucky to leave just before the Nazi policies changed and he was sent off to the showers. John Banner died on his 63rd birthday, in the very place he was born, Vienna, Austria.

And who can forget Colonel Hogan, played by the cool-as-a-cucumber Bob Crane. Of course Crane would later be beaten to death with what many believe to be the same camera tripod that Crane used to videotape his sexual exploits with. It was also noted that Crane's murderer ejacualated on his dead body soon after killing him. Hooooogaaan!

Hey Ernie, I read your site all the time and yes I love the tasteless bits, been reading for like six years I know you're a big supporter of the military, and I was wondering what you think about the comment made about us Canadians on this Fox news segment. Frankly being a proud Canadian I'm shocked. I just want to get your take on things love the site here in Canada - Adrian

Well, my immediate reaction is embarassment. Seriously. As the guy who used to take great pains to shit on Canada at least once a week before the war in Afghanistan, I'm actually embarassed of this video. I think it's disgraceful. I really do. Shortly after that segment aired, Greg Gutfield offered the following apology, "I realize that my words may have been misunderstood. It was not my intent to disrespect the brave men, women and families of the Canadian military, and for that I apologize." And eh, I'll take that with a grain of salt. Especially given three days later, Master Cpl. Scott Vernelli, 28, Cpl. Tyler Crooks, 24, Trooper Jack Bouthillier, 20, and Trooper Corey Joseph Hayes, 22, were killed in two separate IED blasts. Now with me prefacing the following by first saying I've never seen or even heard of Red Eye until that video clip, I will say that all the information I've seen on it paints the show in somewhat of a satirical light. I mean they used to feature Joe Francis as the show's "jailhouse correspondent." So as disrespectful and ignorant as that video clip is, I do believe it was more of a poorly executed bout of political satire, and not actual contempt for Canada's contribution in Afghanistan.

One thing to note about Fox News through. Well, okay, actually two things. First I should point out that they have some of the hottest female news anchors out there. But the real thing I want to mention is despite what anyone says to the contrary, let me assure you that they are the rightest of the right wing news outlets; just like MSNBC is the leftest of the left. If Obama were to bent over, pluck a flower and hand it to a small orphaned blind girl, the Fox News headline would read, "OBAMA DEFORSTATION TO MAKE ROOM FOR THE UNEMPLOYED PLAN MEANS BIG TAX INCREASE." Likewise, you can line up all the orphans and puppies from Virginia Beach to San Francisco and after Obama runs them all over with a bulldozer MSNBC would report, "OBAMA STARTS REBUILDING INFRASTRUCTURE WITH INTRODUCTION OF NEW NATIONWIDE HIGHWAY SYSTM." They're both fucking whackjobs but ultimately they balance each other out. If I really want to get unbiased news on what's going on in America, you know who I turn to? The BBC in the UK. No shit. They're the only ones that simply tell it like it is.

Ernie, I have been a reader of your site since around 2000 and have loved it. I have never wrote you before but I have donated to LBEH once. However after reading your post today about COPA it reminded me how dissappointed I was when I saw how that law impacted your site. So in honor of such a momentous event of you being able to post awesome material again I decided to share two of my "gems" of pictures. As soon as I took these picture I knew I wanted to share them with the world but I did not know when. Well I think the time has come. I took these pictures last April when I was driving to Alaska. It is from one of the rest stops along the Alaskan Highway in Canada. You can do whatever you like with it. I think it has good shock value to it. Keep up the great work on your site. Andrew

Ernie, In regard to the use of the word "retard," it needs to be understood that most don't see the word as a personal slur. It's just funny-like seeing a dog with one ear flipped up. Like poop jokes and seeing some other guy get smacked in the onions. It's just funny. That being said, this picture is just wrong. Tom, Houston TX

Looking throught the local craigslist the other day came across this ...I'm at a total loss of words on the description. Beetle

Dude, I don't even want to know what you were searching for to yield such interesting results. An iguana, I hope. Because if iguanas really are this cool, then I think there should be a law requiring everyone to have at least one iguana with them at all times.

Eighty Improv Everywhere Agents enter a Manhattan Best Buy store dressed up as the employees - in blue polos and khakis. With cool Loverboy soundtrack, because of yes, we are working for the weekend.

What Do I And Barry Bonds Have In Common?

Okay first off, I have to toot my own horn on Super Stacker 2, because yes bitches, I finally completed all 40 levels on Bonus Mode. As I said before, Level 21 was by far the hardest to complete given 17 of the 28 pieces are little yellow balls which are quite unsuitable for a foundation, and if you get dealt those too early you might as well give up. I only managed to complete that level because of the clock; if the structure needed to stand for another two seconds, I'd still be at it. I literally spent some 200+ games looking at the order the pieces were randomly selected, sighing as I dropped the first of several of those balls of the bottom of the screen, and clicking 'try again'. So when a few people sent in screen caps like this and claiming to have completed this on Bonus Mode, eh, you'll pardon me if I throw the bullshit flag because the odds of getting dealt those pieces in almost the exact same order of the non-Bonus mode are like 1 in 3,000,000,000,000. And given how long I worked at this and the fact that this is my motherfucking website, I'm declaring everyone else's entries null and void and declaring myself the winner*. Yeah, that's right, I'm cheating. I rule and David is second.

Ernie. Whooohooo wow..... I can't shake this picture out my head! Holy fuck man, that was nasty! Sometimes you sneak in the freaky shit, got to make sure I read the daily post BEFORE dinner!! I'd be nervous to go to sleep next to that hottie.. Tits and a scalpel... dangerous combo!! Have a great nite. Pete

God this is awesome, today's post is just writing itself. This brings up another subject I've wanted to touch on but before I do, you're going to want to stock up on some eye bleach. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Okay, good. As of late, I'm sure you've noticed that I've been posting a lot more... shall we say... more "edgy" material. Pictures such as -- and don't worry you've seen all of these in the past few weeks -- this and this and this and this. Now for those of you fairly new to EHOWA, I actually used to post stuff like this all the time not with of any sexual intent, but because I love their shock value. Then one day I couldn't any longer, for fear of -- and I shit you not -- going to motherfucking jail for violating the Child Online Protection Act. The COPA was a law some genius thought up that would pretty much absolve parents of any parental responsibility for their children and place all the burden on webmasters such as myself. Because hey newsflash: kids shouldn't be surfing the internet unsupervised. Mom or Dad should be right over their fucking shoulder the whole time. Absolutely zero privacy for little junior. Want to let them watch television by themselves, go for it. Broadcast television should be clean up, at least up until about 9pm or so. Now had COPA been enforced, I would have been legally bound to put some sort of age verification system in place before showing you anything as benign as this girl lending her friend a helping hand. What kind of age verification system am I talking about? Oh you know, requiring your credit card number or faxing me a copy of your drivers license. Fucked up, isn't it? It was a dark time for freedom of expression.

In 2004, things began to unravel for The Dark Side when John Ashcroft lost an appeal to the Supreme Court, but COPA would continue to gasp for breath for for another five years until January 21st of this year, when the Supreme Court finally restored common sense to the land. Now do you know who is responsible for keeping children away from adult material? That's right; the fucking parents. And that's the way it should be.

It's important to note that the Child Online Protection Act should not be confused with the Child Protection and Obscenity Enforcement Act, also known as United States Code 2257. That's another law which I believe to be well intended but poorly implemented. It declares all hardcore pornography to be considered child pornography until proven otherwise. Let me rephrase that for you; guilty until proven innocent. If that doesn't scare you, I don't know what will. Now listen, I'm all for stamping out child porn, I'm all for Chris Hansen offering guys a plate of cookies, and I'm all for hunting internet predators. But sweeping the broadsword of justice with as wide a stroke as you possibly can, isn't the way to go about it. Where does it stop? besides, this is the internet so what about international sites? What happens when Lucy Pinder poses topless for Nuts magazine, which is UK based? What happens then? See, USC 2257 is broken.

I worked for The Niagara County Association for Retarded Children in a group home Located in Niagara Falls, NY to put my wife through college (before attending myself). We called them “Tards” all the time. I find it is people who have never really spent any time around them are the ones who have a problem with the term. All the best, John

Ernie, Lighted mud flap for a Goldwing... The one on the blue bike is no good anymore! Regards, --Harold

Hey Ernie, I read the Tasteless Thursday piece and laughed out loud. I know it is not "politically correct" but I'm sorry it is still funny as Hell! I have a niece who is the cutest, most adorable little niece one could ever hope for, and she happens to be autistic. For a year or so all she did was smear shit on the walls, scream at the top of her little lungs and lay on the floor kicking the sliding glass doors for all she was worth. Thank God that phase has long passed. It was around this time that I started referring to her as "houseplant" which even her mother found funny. Of course I would never call her 'houseplant' if she was within earshot, I am not that big an asshole. If some of your readers are that easily offended perhaps yours is not the best website for them to be reading. For the rest of us that can find a little bit of humor in some of life's cruelest moments, we say "keep it coming!" Bill.

Me? I Thought Is Was Fucking Hysterical. Seriously. I LOL'd. Sorta.

Ever get into a verbal fad? Like where there's a saying you pick up, or a mannerism that seems to take over how you talk? Many moons ago I used to work with a guy named John; he was not only an IT contractor which is how I knew him, but he also co-owned a fish store with his brother. One of the little quirks I picked up one summer was talking like a retard, or I guess I should say Tardese after yesterday's Tasteless Thursday. Whenever the other person didn't understand what the other was saying, we'd crinkle out hand, and slap it off our chest as we mumbled out one syllable words trying to re-explain our point. It would usually send the two of us into hysterics, along with anyone else who happened to be in the room. Obviously this wasn't something we'd do in front of strangers, but as time marched on it just became more and more nonchalant. Anyway, our Tardese act slowly migrated out from the office to our 'outside' life as well, and for John this included his daily time running the fish store. One day John was behind the counter and to make a point, did Tardese speak to his brother. And while his brother found this to be quite funny, the female customer he was waiting on certainly did not. She (rightfully so) berated John for making fun of the mentally challenged, as her son had.... shit I'm trying to remember now, I think it was cerebral palsy. Not important.

Anyway. John came to work the next morning very somber and very serious -- obviously still feeling quite guilty from the tongue lashing he had received the night before. I asked him why the long face -- I might even have done it in Tardese, funny enough. And after he explained what had happened he shook his head and said, "I'm not doing that any more." And he didn't. That was pretty much the end of Tardese in the office. Don't get me wrong; I still do it on occasion. But while I haven't spoken to John in several years, I have no doubt that he has long since forgotten his Tardese tongue.

So this morning as I was watching the Obama/Jay Leno interview and speaking about his bowling game Obama interjected, "It's like -- it was like Special Olympics, or something." I half cringed and half burst into laughter. I cringed because I thought, "Wow is he going to be fucking crucified for this one." And I LOL'd because c'mon seriously, it was fucking funny. Especially when you consider how nonchalantly he said it. And before anyone points a finger I want you to be honest: who among us hasn't done the exact same thing a hundred times before? I sure as hell have (and do). John sure as hell has. The only thing is when you're the President of the United States, your audience isn't some angry lady in a fish store, it's the whole fucking country. Conservative outlets such as Fox News will play it up, while the other end tries to quietly play it down. Is it really a big deal? Eh, I don't think so, at least not while we have more important things to worry about, eating delicious, yummy bacon. But yes, as Prez it's exceptionally bad form. Very funny, I think, but bad form none the less. Probably not ad bad as Kate Moss's shirt opening up and exposing her nipples, or a forty-four year old mother entering a spring break bikini contest, but damn close. This of course brings me to...

Hey Ernie, been reading for a long time and never really needed a reason to write in, except for now. I appreciate the tasteless tuesdays as much as the next guy because their usually hilarious and fucking disgusting. However this latest tasteless thursday really rubbed me the wrong way. Constantly referring to people with mental handicaps as "Tards" and then laughing is entirely uncalled for. Also volunteering at an Association just to pick up "hot" chicks and laugh at others is just plain sad. With a family member who has down syndrome I really hate when people make fun of mentally challenged people, it is uncalled for and shows, if nothing, that you look down on others who you believe are less than you. I will continue to read your site cause it really cheers me up everyday and I get a good laugh out of it, but I just wanted to express my opinion. Make fun of me if you will. I also encourage everyone on your site to visit www.R-word.org and read up and see how much everyone has to offer to the world. Tim

Well Tim, I think your version, of "a long time," and my version of, "a long time," are two different things. I'm sure the folks that have been hanging around EHOWA for the better past of five plus years half expected me to give it to you with both barrels, but I'm going to give you a pass on this one. I see the first email from you was in June of 2008 and I'll admit I haven't posted much in the way of tasteless stories in that time. Not because I'm not trying, the quality of material posted to alt.tasteless just isn't out there anymore. For example, here's a story that was sent in back in October of 2002 -- the story of the polyndal cyst. Now sure, many of us have read and reread that before, but this time pay attention to the quality of the writing and the attention to detail. You can almost smell the ass ooze, can't you? Now read some of the material posted there today It's essentially, "I've got gout. Boy my toe hurts." What kind of shit is this? I can't post that crap! And let's go to your hot button issue, tards. Here's some tasteless tard material from the archives. Now, setting your personal involvement aside, it's again a well written story. But the newer stuff? "Wow I saw a Tard at a baseball game." I bring this up not to make fun of you, but to show that if there was most post worthy stories out there, you'd have seen a lot more of them lately and so this one yesterday wouldn't have been such a shock to you.

Tasteless stories encompass all walks of life. Sometimes it's the elderly, or children, or minorities, or 'regular' people with injuries, or women, or yes, even the mentally handicapped. I consider these tasteless stories to be one big tasteless joke. A long joke of course, much longer than, "Q. Whats the difference between Sarah Palin's vagina and her mouth? A. Only some of the things that come out of her vagina are retarded." -- but posted for the same reason; so people can find the humor in their absurdity. So people can shake off, even for just a few minutes, the bonds of political correctness that has evolved from "trainables" to "mentally handicapped" to "mentally challenged" to "developmentally challenged" to its the most current form; "intellectual disabilities." Besides, to have an entire website dedicated to not using the word 'retard'? That's absurdly funny. So in short, it's never personal so don't get your panties in a bunch.

Who would have thought Kimmel's career would have taken off from just The Man Show? Poor Adam Corolla. Anyway, whether you're eight or eighty, Mr. Rogers welcomed you to his neighborhood. But then we thought about it; a middle aged man in a sweater inviting young children to visit the Land of Make Believe. What could he be telling these kids. Check out this clip of the birthday boy being subjected to unnecessary censorship. This is funny on so many levels. Besides, I've been lifting a little weights, can you tell?

Tasteless Thursday. That's Right, I Said Thursday.

While this tale occurred some years ago, some tastelesness is timeless. As a callow youth, I volunteered for the Ohio Association for Retarded Children. My reasons were twofold: 1) there were a number of *fine* young ladies who were volunteers, and 2) the amusement value inherent in being around "special" children, particularly en masse. This particular chapter of OARC held monthly Saturday night dances at a church in Cleveland Heights. Needless to say, the "choreography" displayed at these affair was more peculiar (not to mention funnier) than anything even Twyla Tharp could create.

On one fateful night, another volunteer had managed to secure a donation from a local caterer. There were a variety of sandwiches, pastries, salads and the pièce de résistance: a Fountain o' Punch. That fountain was a TardMagnet™. 'Twas a glittering stainless steel affair about two feet tall which sprayed an endless stream of hideous, overly-sweetened, chemical-laden Day-Glo red fluid into a receptacle at its base. I can only imagine how it overwhelmed the senses of our guests. The gleaming, silvery fountain itself; the crimson liquid scintillating under the lights; the comforting, tard-like burbling noises; the tangy aroma; the pungent, mellifluous flavor. Needless to say, the kids found it irresistable. And helped themselves to copious quantities.

About halfway through the evening, two of the l'il darlin's got into an altercation over a brownie. Never mind the fact that there was an enormous plate of them within arms' reach of these kids. They were hopped-up on sugar and ready to rumble. Unintelligible fighting words led to a spastic shoving match. Instantaneous sucrose-fueled bedlam ensued. Several of the kids began mewling and/or running around and/or wetting themselves. One particular by-drooler (who was apparently quite traumatized by the
goings-on) let fly a highly-pressurized jet of chunky-style vomit. (He'd obviously ingested most of the egg salad sandwiches plus lots of carrot sticks as well as mucho punch.) He sprayed one of the duelists, a volunteer and a couple of nearby tards. This triggered an order-of-magnitude increase of unfathomable, incoherent screams, yells and whimpers in several dialects of Tardese™. Unfortunately, it also caused five or six of the other kids to empty their stomachs onto whatever (or whomever) happened to be in the way. (Including, of course, your faithful scribe. Chalk it up to "grace under fire" that I didn't add my own contribution to the festivities.)

CLOSEUP: A tard's face. His eyes (replete with epicanthic folds) scrunched tightly shut; tears are leaking from their corners. LiquiSnot™ is streaming from both nostrils. His mouth is twisted and trembling, opening and shutting spasmodically while making a sound best approximated as "Nghommngy! Nghommngy!"

AS THE CAMERA SLOWLY PULLS BACK, WE SEE: The front of the tard's shirt is stained red and covered with little half-digested, multicolored chunks. He is sitting in a pool of the same miasma which covers his shirt. As the CAMERA CONTINUES PULLING BACK, we hear more piteous, half-human sounds of suffering and a splashing noise. THE CAMERA REVEALS another tard, next to the first, crying and jumping up and down in the chunky red puddle. Next, we see a female volunteer trying to comfort the JumpTard™.

AS THE PULL-BACK CONTINUES, we see more victims, both tards and volunteers. There is a second puddle with two more tards in it; a female sitting and a male kneeling. The male is hitting himself in the head with his fist. The female lets loose another gentle stream of vomit. They, too, are crying. Next to them is an upright male tard; the front of his pants is wet, he is hiding his face with his hands and making a "mmmweeee!" sound. A volunteer moves to hug him; the tard grabs onto her like a drowning, er, tard.

THE CAMERA BEGINS TO PULL BACK MORE QUICKLY. We see more tards and volunteers in varying stages of upset and dishevelment. One tard is laughing maniacally. A male volunteer is puking. In the UPPER LEFT CORNER, we see a lone male tard still cramming brownies into his maw, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding carnage. Oh, the sub-humanity!

The perfect capper that evening was the look on the face of the church janitor when he turned up around 9:15 to supervise our cleanup. He was a middle-aged black guy, and generally seemed to be pretty cool. I'm sure he'd been smoking some weed (as I'd blown the occasional joint with him on other occasions) and he may have had a few snorts from his hip flask, too. When he saw the mess, he was dumbstruck. His expression went from quizzical to concerned to totally freaked in about half a second. I believe his first words were: "WHAT IN THE FUCK...! Oh no, I ain't cleanin' THIS shit up! I'll gitcha mop and bucket." He then turned around and walked out of the room.

Needless to say, we had some 'splainin' to do. And a very unpleasant time of it, both cleaning up, and dealing with a few of parents who got a little freaked themselves, when they arrived to pick up their kids. Although it is beyond me how someone who's a TardWrangler™ 24/7 could've been the least bit surprised. Tards is *inherently* tasteless, ain't they? Cheers, Funkboy

Ernie, I'm a big fan, and actually I wrote you once before in support of one your stance on a store that wouldn't honor military discounts. I'm not a brain surgeon by any means, but I am about two months from finishing medical school, and here's the scoop on what likely happened. When people have traumatic head injury, obviously they are at risk for fracture their skulls. If the fracture occurrs on the side of the head near the temples, you run the risk of severing an artery known as the middle meningeal artery. What happens then is that at first you get knocked a little loopy from the head blow, but after a little while, you are feeling pretty good. This is called the lucid interval. What you dont realize is that while you are sitting there telling everyone about the bad ass fall you had while trying to jump off your roof onto your neighbors trampoline and into their hot tub, the space between your brain and your skull is filling with blood. In medical terms an epidural hematoma. Now most of the time there shouldn't be any space between your brain and your skull, so your brain starts to get crushed and a few things happen. First your brain starts to cramp in on itself which causes you to feel a little loopy, then it starts to choke off its own blood supply, and finally it does weird things like squeeze out the bottom of your skull, and choke off your drive to breathe. All of this contributes to what we calll hypoxia, which means the brain isnt getting any oxygen, and that is how you go from banging your head to feeling fine to brain dead in less than 24 hours. The picture I attatched is of a CAT Scan and the brain is various shades of gray, the skull is the light ring and the blood is the bright white "lens shaped" thing from 2 O'clock to 4 O'clock. Keep fighting the good fight, Frank

Of course twenty minutes after my asking that question yesterday, every swinging dick with a website posted stories about how minor head trauma can turn deadly. But props to Frank, Dave and Jesse who the first ones to reply before the info became mainstream news. Actually, this story reminded of when I got my bell rung a scant five and a half years ago, where I and my friends did pretty much everything wrong:

Me? Good thing I drink milk. I ended up with a mild concussion, bruised spine, and a pretty sore fucking shoulder (I think it's something with my collar bone). I couldn't remember the date, my phone number, or even if I had just crashed -- I kept asking if that's what happened. I still don't remember the half an hour before the crash, the crash, getting up from the crash, riding my ATV back to the trucks, waiting while they were loaded up, changing back into street clothes, the entire ride back to drop everything off at one of the guy's houses, the ride back to my house (someone else drove both legs), going up three flights of stairs to my place, taking my contacts out, or getting into bed. I suppose it could have been a lot worse, but I'm not going to sit here and say I was "lucky" because if I were, I wouldn't have driven off a fucking cliff to begin with, right?

Yep, they actually put me to bed with a concussion. Hey thanks for trying to fucking kill me, you homos. I guess hearing about someone dying from a little smack on the head is kind of like when your mom tells you your face is going to, "freeze that way." You're like, ah bullshit. And then one day you actually meet someone whose face did freeze that way and it kind of opens your eyes. So yeah, I guess I really could have cashed in my chips. Helmets. Learn em, live em, love em.

The Japanese game show Gaki is a little tough to explain (since we don’t speak Japanese), but from what we understand it revolves around four contestants who are locked in a gymnasium for 24 hours and are randomly attacked by guys dressed in black fetish outfits. Yeah, it’s pretty bizarre. And here are the five most bizarre moments from the show. Anyway, I suppose being locked in a gym and attacked as an adult would be better than spending one minute as a child on the street, attacked by zombies. You Japs are fucking weird man. Cool, but weird.

So I learned something very disturbing this morning, and I have to admit it broke my heart. For years I have lived knowing that Charisma Carpenter secretly loves me. She wasn't strong enough to admit this publicly, even going to far as to marry someone else to keep her secret hidden from the world. But that was okay with me. In fact I have a copy of her Playboy issue from June of 2004 still sealed in its original plastic covering. And no, I don't read the articles. Anyway, I was comfortable knowing how she felt, as I too loved her. Until today. Yes, because today I learned something so about Charisma that is horrific and disturbing, that I can never look at her the same again. She will forever be lesser in my eyes. Beauty tainted by evil. Returned to sender, address unknown. She is... she is... she... God, I can't even say it. It hurts too much. She is, sigh... she is a Yankees fan. Good bye, Charisma. Parting is indeed such sweet sorrow. And I can only offer you these parting words and my mind drifts upon a sea of your memories. Never roll up in a frozen moose hide for warmth. It will freeze solid; and there will be no way to get out. It will be your tomb. And along those lines, here are some other ideas for surviving a bear attack.

Okay, the St Patty's Day challenge. As I said it was a one time shot so second place goes to Daniel with 74,100, falling behind only Geoff with 77,700. Don't worry Dan, as a consolation prize I've got some nice ox cock for you. So for today, here's what I have new for you. And listen the fuck up too, because I don't want any of you fucking chuckleheads to mess this one up. In order to enter a score for this one, you must complete this game. Don't worry, I'll even show you a walkthrough that shows you exactly how to do it. This way you won't get bogged down and should only take you a few minutes. Once you've completed all forty levels of Super Stacker 2, you can then turn on Bonus Mode -- it's here where things get interesting and where we start measuring your progress. Bonus mode randomizes the order in which you receive the stackable parts, which means the walkthrough is useless from here on out. In bonus mode, I managed to complete 30 of the 40 levels. See if you can beat that. And remember, don't send me forty green checkboxes and think you're king shit; you'll only be asking for it. This time only your bonus mode score counts so just like your kindergarden teacher, I'm looking for the little gold stars.

When we last left our friends at PG Porn, they were showing us that squeal happy whores aren't all they're cracked up to be. In this new episode, guest star Craig Robinson helps give adult star Bree Olson a ride. But it's not exactly the kind of ride you'd expect.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day, You Potato Eatin Fucks.

What's the difference between St Patrick's Day and Martin Luther King Day? On St Patrick's Day, everyone wants to be Irish!

Hey Ernie. Three neat features about the [Destroy The Wall 2] game: - if you're quick enough, you can catch the ball when it comes back over the line to get extra shots at the wall. - you can add spin to the ball by making small circles with the mouse while you throw the ball, and the spin affects how the ball bounces. But neither of those is as neat as this one; if you keep clicking Try Again at the end, the game keeps adding to your score. I finally stopped 2 hours and some 80,000 points into it. Thanks for the fun! -Dave

Fuck. So that challenge is out. Just in time for St Patrick's Day is Paddy's Gold. Only good for one day and you have to beat my 14,900. Yes, the levels get progressively harder.

Oh Fuck, I Forgot To Change The Title.

Shit. Remember when you were a kid and you got a big homework assignment over the weekend, and all day Friday and all day Saturday you were like, "I have to remember my homework. I have to remember my homework. I have to remember my homework." And then when school rolls around again on Monday morning, you realize that you've forgotten your homework? Yeah that's what I did. So yeah, I definitely watch Burn Notice. Although this show does raise a good topic of discussion; Gabrielle Anwar. Hot or not? She used to be fuckin smokin hot, like around the Three Musketeers era which by the way is a film she did four months pregnant (oh I just threw up in my mouth). But now as she pushed past the 39 mark she's kind of an enigma. As Dan pointed out in a later email, yes she can stand to down a couple of bowls of maccaroni and cheese, but she's still got the rockin body of a twenty year old. The catch is, she's kinda of busted in the face now. Quite simply put she, like a lot of other celebrities, isn't aging all that well. So while I'm definitely not a fan of lots of plastic surgery, Gabrielle? Sweetheart please, go get a fucking facelift so I can beat off during your scenes again. I really miss you.

Oh, and remember my meeting Bruce Fucking Campbell story and my mentioning those guys in the front row who actually got to sit right up there with Bruce himself? Yeah, they brought a camera with them, and uploaded seven videos to Youtube. It seems they captured all thirty minutes in which Bruce took questions, except of course, when I asked mine. So much for my fifteen minutes, eh?

Hey Ernie, I visit your site religiously and know you love dogs. I put two pictures of the pitbull attack on my photobucket account, one of the dog and one of the chew toy. Apparently the dog's picture offended the canine-lovers at photobucket and they deleted it, leaving me with only the chew toy. Cheers to photobucket! Scott in sunny FL

Ernie, Love reading your site matey. The airport was indeed Kai Tak which shut in 2000 (replaced by the very efficient but boring Chek Lap Kok). Flying into Kai Tak was a brilliant experience - especialy at night, can't say it was fun during a typhoon though. This web site has a few vids of Kai Tak landings. Cheers, mumph. Andrew

Okay, game challenge. The winner on Guestimation was not Matt, as I expected it to be, but instead Mark who pulled ahead with 4,828. This of course brings us to our next challenge, and seeing how physics-based games always do well, I selected Destroy The Wall 2. You get two tosses before the wall resets. Some puzzles need a clever solution, others need blinding accuracy. Either way, you have to beat my 21,800.

I Got Caught Up In A 1-8-7.

One of the down sides to EHOWA's popularity is sometimes I can't be as open as I'd like to be regarding certain subjects. The site gets read by friends, family, neighbors, co-workers, etc ... and unfortunately I find that makes me want to hold back on certain things. I mean reading a story about some anonymous guy on the internet picking his nose in traffic is one thing; but when you're sitting across the table and he hands you a sandwich, it's a little different. I'm going to slip my bonds a little bit today, and I hope my brother doesn't mind too much.

So did I ever tell you my mother's death was ruled a homicide? No shit. Look up the crime statistics for Rochester, NY in 2002 -- realize that one of those forty-two was none other than my dear old mom. "But Ernie, you always say your mom died of cancer," and yep, in my opinion she did. I'll explain but first, a quick lead in. If there's one thing I learned while I was in the Air Force, it was that whenever shit started to go sideways, document everything in the interest of covering your own ass. Simply because as time progresses, you forget the small stuff details. For example, last week I said there was a two week delay from my mother's diagnosis to her first treatment. Not true, as you'll read in just a second, it was actually only one week.

Below are the notes my family and I hastily put together late in the evening of March 8th, 2002, following a rather disturbing meeting with hospital administrators the day after my mother's death. I've had it saved as a Word document for that long, transferring from hard drive to USB drive and back again as I changed computers. It's gone from my old Thinkpad 600X to three different eMachine desktops, to my new Thinkpad T43, and now to a Gateway desktop. From New York to Massachusetts and to Florida. I don't know why I've never deleted it; believe me it's more macabre than sentimental. And while I've taken the liberty of removing a few family names and more personal details (who wants to read how the hospital actually lost my mom's bottom dentures?), it's otherwise here in (mostly) unedited form.

Friday, January 25th, 2002 - My mother Faye Stewart diagnosed with one small tumor on her lung, two large tumors in her brain (one on left side, one in front), and "several" small tumors in her brain as well. Radiation treatment started on 2/4 and continued until 2/18 President's Day (five doses per week). 3-4 days into her treatment she suffered a mild seizure on her right side. Doctors prescribed medicine and the seizures stopped. Following radiation treatment, doctors decided to let her rest for an additional two weeks until her scheduled follow up appointment with her oncologist Dr Ashbury on 3/3 for chemotherapy. She had a few additional seizures before this appointment came to be.

Monday March 4th, 2002 - 2am -- Mom so incapacitated by headaches that my father called the on-call service for her on oncologist, spoke with Doctor Fenton. My father stated that while they have an appointment tomorrow morning at 11am with Dr Ashbury, my mother was not doing well. Dr Fenton replied, "well if you have an appointment at 11am, why are you bothering me at 2am?"

11am. -- While in private room meeting with Dr. Ashbury my mother had a mild seizure on her right side, he immediately admitted her and they went over to Emergency. She was moved to her own room around 6pm that day.

Wednesday March 6th - afternoon - Dr Fenton called family into a private room and told us that her kidneys were failing completely, and the cancer has spread to her liver as well. He predicted that she has no more than 1-2 weeks to live. I asked him specifically how soon it could be... he couldn't say. I asked again, "5 minutes, 5 hours, 5 days?" And he said it could be, "anytime." However they are still trying to "reverse anything that can be reversed" and would continue to do so up until the point where they decided they have done all they could do, then they would start "comfort care".

Thursday March 7th - morning -- mom having difficulty breathing, very labored. Nurse put on oxygen hose. 11am'ish -- I returned from making a trip to the house and my family was in the hallway, they informed me that they have removed mom's IV's and officially started "comfort care." We are visited by the Hospice representative, who explained that they would be taking over her care. 2pm'ish -- breathing continued to be labored, humidifier added to the oxygen hose. 4pm'ish -- breathing gets even worse, so the nurse moved her to an oxygen mask as opposed to the hose.

6:30pm -- I'm on the way home for errands, and I was urgently called back to the hospital by my brother, ‘get back here now’. When I got to the hospital five minutes later, my mother was on the bed, mask off (per her request), unconscious and breathing extremely labored. This continued until she passed at 7:10pm. Doctor came in a few minutes later and declared official time of death at 7:20pm. We gather our things and leave the hospital by 7:45pm

Friday March 8th - 1:00pm -- scheduled meeting with Funeral Home to choose urn, etc. Important to note that since she was being cremated, embalming was NOT going to be performed. My father states that he would like to visually verify my mother's body just prior to the cremation, due to all the fraud cases happening in Georgia at the same time. They agree.

4:00pm -- return home and check the answering machine. There is a message on it from a Dr Soloponte who identified himself as the medical director of the hospital and requested to get in contact with us as soon as we could. He left his pager number and we page him; he calls back and states there is an issue regarding my mother's medical records and the amount of pain medicine she received and how quickly she deteriorated. Requested we come in to discuss with their attorney. 4:25pm -- on the way to the hospital we left numerous messages the attorney who handled my mother's will.

4:30pm -- We all (arrive at the hospital and meet with Dr Soloponte, his secretary (?) and a hospital attorney. We are informed that someone from their day shift made some inquiries as to how quickly my mother deteriorated after being moved to the new room, and as to the amount of morphine she was given. The attorney states that per hospital policy they contacted the Monroe County Medical Examiner (ME) who took posession of my mother's body sometime earlier. At this point, tempers and emotions flared. We were outraged at the poor attempt of communication from the hospital given the fact that they have the cell phone numbers of four family members on my mother's medical records, not to mention my father's answering machine doesn't play a greeting identifying who you called (i.e. just ring...ring...ring...beep). We also expressly stated upon my mother's death that her body was not to be touched... no examination, no cutting, no autopsy, no organ removal. Dr Soloponte stated that the ME would just draw blood to perform a toxicology exam.

5:00pm -- After many heated exchanges, Dr Soloponte gets the ME's office on the telephone. I spoke with an Inspector Walker. He stated that while he was not the decision maker in the issue, he could relay our thoughts and feeling to the doctor who was -- Dr Smith. I explained to him that any examination of my mother's body was expressly against our wishes and we wanted her body returned to the funeral home immediately as we the cremation is scheduled for 9am the following morning. He states that he would pass on these things and we could contact him back in one hour.

5:40pm -- I called the ME's office and spoke with Ins Walker. He states that contrary to what the hospital had told us, they had not taken my mother's body yet -- it was still at the funeral home. He was still waiting to hear back from his boss (Dr Smith). He states that the ME would not perform any kind of an examination without the District Attorney's direction, and they were on the phone talking at that time.

6:00pm -- Inspector Walker calls. He states that on the recommendation of the ME, the DA requested my mother's body be taken from the funeral home to downtown for examination. I told him to pass on to the DA that we demanded a call from them.

6:30pm. Received a call from Joanne Winslow of the DA's office. I asked if she was the decision maker in this process -- no she states that 1st DA Mike Green was the one from their office who officially requested an examination of my mother's body be performed. She stated that as soon as a question was raised in my mother's death and the circumstances surrounding it, they are bound to do some type of investigation, even if it is against the family's wishes.

7:45pm -- Receive a call from the Greece Police requesting to ask my father some questions. We refer them to our attorney.

8:30pm -- Attorney calls back. She states that while most of the people she has tried to contact have not been available, she was still trying. She did speak to Inspector Walker, who stated that the ME's office was on their way to the funeral home to get my mother's body at that time. He was unsure what examination they would do, but maintained it would not take long but we would most likely not make the 9am cremation appointment.

[It was here that huddled around the kitchen table, we collectively rebuilt the timeline of the last two days into this document]

Saturday March 9th - 8:00am -- Received a call from attorney. She states the ME rejected our objection to the autopsy and was performing not just a blood extraction, but a full autopsy, taking tissue samples from the head, chest and abdomen. She also noted that since embalming had been started (?!), the ME's office wasn't even entirely sure they could get accurate results from the tissue samples, so all this may be for nothing. Either way they predicted they would be done and would release the body to the funeral home for cremation by 2pm.

2:00pm -- My whole family arrives at the crematorium and my mother's body did arrive on time for cremation. My father did in fact visually verify her identity by her face, but the rest of her body was shrouded in sheets to hide the autopsy incisions.

The rest of the story didn't unfold anywhere near as quickly, in fact it took the next two motherfucking years before the matter was finally brought to an end. Keep that in mind the next time you're watching CSI and they get the toxicology reports back the same afternoon. Anyway, while my mother was indeed only a week away from her impending demise, the actual cause of death was listed as acute morphine poisoning at the hands of one particular male nurse that took over my mother's care once she was moved into the hospice room. Whether or not it was accidental or intentional was a matter of great debate and dominated not only many a dinner table conversation but some legal inquisitions as well. There were big meetings between us and the Medical Examiner and District Attorneys offices; interviews with the Gates Police department, where my father, two brothers and myself all had to be interviewed separately and recount every excruciatingly horrible details of my mother's final days. Biohazard boxes full of used needles were taken from the hospital, each having to be catalogued and tested. And of course the lawyers, you can't forget the lawyers! Oh yes, good times, good times.

In the end, the DA decided they couldn't prove the nurse did it intentionally, and it was chalked up to negligence. But, since one human being directly caused the premature death of another human being's, on my mother's death certificate the little box next to 'HOMICIDE' is indeed checked off. Kinda cool, actually. Mom went out all gangsta and shit. Now some of you might wonder if I harbor any hard feelings towards the parties involved; the doctors, the hospital, the police, the DA/ME, and of course the nurse in question. Nope. Not a bit. People were just doing their jobs. Well, there were of course many a heated argument and I think Joanne Winslow was a complete cunt to us during this whole ordeal, she made us feel like she was more concerned with putting another notch in her belt than anything else. But, bygones, right? But more specifically to the nurse, I don't think ill of him at all. In fact, I was quite vocal in supporting him during the investigation, and during an interview I was quite eager to inform Ms. Winslow that not only would I contribute money towards his defense if needed, but would gladly testify on his behalf.

Whaaa? Help defend the person who, "killed my mom"? Uhh, no. Listen. The nurse did not kill my mom. Neither did the hospital, or the morphine, or the pharmacist, or the orderlies, or the lawyers, or anyone else for that matter. Let's be clear; cancer killed my mom. And to those of you who say every minute of life is precious and nobody has the right to play God, I proudly say to you here and now in the loudest voice I can muster; fuck you. No it isn't. So when someone who deals with death and misery every day, pulls you and your family aside and says, "it won't be long now," then brother you'd better fucking listen. The way I see it, we're lucky because the entire family had the opportunity to say goodbye and intentional or not, he ushered my mother out with dignity and mercy. Now as you might expect, not all who bear the Stewart surname agree with me, but I'm at peace with it.

Anyway, I don't know what made me decide to tell this story seven years on, but much like my Chase-Pitkin grand larceny adventure, there it is like it or not. As a side note, how hospital pharmacies dispense morphine is really fucking stupid. It comes pre-packaged in 10cc syringes. So if the doctor prescribes 2cc's of morphine, the pharmacies dispense a 10cc syringe, the nurse is then supposed to administer the prescribed dosage and discard the rest. I understand that's probably due to some packaging limitations, or maybe it's too impractical to manufacture smaller doses, but it leaves a lot of wriggle room for mistakes. Anyway. On the upside, with this story posted here, I can finally delete this fucking file.

A Snip-Snip Here, A Snip-Snip There.

I have to admit, the slowed economy is slowly beginning to take it's toll on case del'Ernie. I'm not as hard hit as some others I know, thanks to my hocking Earl last year as a preventative measure to free up some cashola. And I'm glad I did. That plus the gas savings from riding the scooter all around town is a big help; 5,000 miles a year at 11 mpg and an optimistic $2 a gallon = $900, versus only $110 for the scooter. I've also replaced all the lightbulbs in my house with CFC's, and that's knocked about $25 off my electric bill each month. "But Ernie, they're bad for the environment." Yeah, I don't care. I had also debated unplugging the small beer fridge that lives in my office, but when I ran the numbers (100 watts x 10 hours a day x $0.11 per kw = only $3 a month) I said fuck that. You can't put a price on the convenience of cold beer. But going out for dinner is a treat now, instead of a regularity. Filtered water from the fridge has replaced two cases of bottled water a week.

And me? I'm a fucking television junkie. I think it's the best fucking invention since the butt plug. And I said many moons ago that if you don't have Tivo/DVR to get one, because it will fucking revolutionize the way you watch television. No more commercials, no more missed shows, no more misunderstood dialogue. Here's a list of television shows that I try to keep up on: House, Criminal Minds, NCIS, My Name Is Earl, The Closer, Fringe, Entourage, Sons of Anarchy, Leverage, Survivorman, Mantracker, and lately I've gotten into Eastbound and Down a little bit. Most of those have full episodes available at Hulu. And pick your poison; Family Guy is on there. As is The Tonight Show. Want to watch Saturday Night live? They've got those, too. The Daily Show, Bill Maher, The Office, 24, Damages, King of the Hill, and the list goes on and on. So I find myself asking, with so much television programming being made available online, do I really need my cable television? What if I just popped a computer in where my cable box is, fed it with broadband, run a HDMI out to my television and watched everything via online sites? Sure the picture quality would suffer a little, but at $109 a month that Comcast is fucking me for, is it worth holding on to?

This happened in Israel on Wednesday. We still have lots of minefields in and around the Golan Heights - the Syrians left them to us after the 1967 Six-Day War. A 24-year old Arab and his buddies decided to have a picnic in a minefield. The Arab stepped on a mine and his foot was blown off. He had to be rescued by a chopper, but that wasn't the end of his bad luck. He fell from the helicopter, was critically wounded and eventually died. Zivi

Ernie, I couldn't find a direct link to email you things on the site so I hope this gets to you, this video is so bad ass, this guy has some huge nuts! Its in german but at least you dont have to worry about that! Awesome site!!! Ty K.

We know its a chick because of the titty bumps in the shirt and the pink breast cancer band and the type of dog, but look at her hairy legs, damn. Daniel

I hate being lied to. I hate it. Can't stand lying motherfuckers, which is why I was so angry when Tony sent in this photo from Daytona Bike Week. He claims it's a picture of a motorcycle, but fuck him if I can find it. There is no fucking motorcycle in this picture and fuck you if you can prove otherwise.

And touching back on Eastbound and Down for a minute, three things. First, when the show first started, Katy Mixon looked like she had an ass big enough to shit a bath tub. Now it's gone. How'd that happen? Two, Does anyone else find the scenes with Will Ferrel simply not funny? Like zero humor. And third, does anyone know if they named Kenny Powers after the guy who tried to jump the ROCKET POWERED LINCOLN CONTINENTAL over the Saint Lawrence river?

Countersteering is the technique used by cyclists and motorcyclists to initiate turning toward a given direction by first steering counter to the desired direction ("steer left to turn right"). In order to negotiate a turn successfully, the combined center of mass of the rider and the single-track vehicle must first be leaned in the direction of the turn, and steering momentarily in the opposite direction causes that lean. Once sufficient lean is established to sustain the desired turn, the rider, or in many cases the bike itself, then steers into the turn to cause the bike to turn in the desired direction and stop the lean from increasing. Huh? Here, look at these pictures and you'll understand what I'm saying.

Fernanda Ferrari - Super hot Latina Italian model naked photo shoot. I mean at one point she rambles on in broken English about liking to read and play computer games, but let's be honest, who cares. She's got no fucking shirt on, man.

Can You See This Okay?

Colon Karaoke is a six minute video taken from a documented colonoscopy procedure in which the song Sledge Hammer comes on the radio in the operating room. You'll need Quicktime, unfortunately. A voice over was done in postproduction adding the patient singing along to the radio. Colon Karaoke highlights the absurdity we endure in the most personally penetrating modern day experiences. It also plays with issues of power, sex and humility in popular culture and other less interesting ideas.

The New York Times and Politico have reviews of the first of three Ann Coulter vs. Bill Maher debates. They're in Boston tonight and Chicago on Wednesday. Before you assume any crazy shit went down, just know that Maher and Coulter are friends who were even rumored to be dating a few years ago. And yes, I just threw up in my mouth a little.

In the first teaser trailer for what promises to be one of the most hilarious movies of the summer we see 3 guys who wake up after a crazy bachelor party and realize the groom is missing. The antics that follow are pure comedy genius. With a cameo by... Mike Tyson. Hey, a brother's gotta pay his bills somehow.

Hey Ernie, in Friday’s post JL stated he knew Elmo was gay. I have to disagree, I think he is bi. Later, Scott

Hey Ernie, Big fan of your site, I read it with my coffee every morning to start my day off on the right foot. I've always wanted to contribute somehow but never had anything cool enough to share, until the other day. I was eating lunch in my car at a fast food place. This huge guy pulled in next to me on this motorcycle. Thought nothing of it until I looked closer at what was on his bike. I smartly waited until he got off and went inside to snap these shots. I instantly thought of you and two of your passions. I did not want to stay around after I captured these to see if it was true. I'm just glad I had my camera. Enjoy the shots. Take Care, Martha - Delaware

In the movie Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood's character hands a novice tool user a roll of duct tape, a can of WD-40 and a pair of Vise-Grips. He tells the youngster that any man worth his salt "can do half his household jobs with these three things." Well, Clint was right on the money, as Vise-Grip manufacturer Irwin proved in a recent contest called "Tell Us Your Vise-Grip Story."

Measure once, cut twice? Measure twice? ...no wait. Yeah. No wait. Got a guy installing new kitchen counter tops in my apartment. He's a mason who is doing handyman work for the landlord. He usually does great work but he dropped the ball on this one. All this costs me is a little more time before I ...well, the whole building, can use the water again, as its turned off because the sink is out and all of the old undersink shut-off valves are shot. Maybe if you move the drain over a smidge!!! Thomas.

This is what happens! We were on a trip to Tanegashima, Japan last year and saw this. Dont leave your car to the wife! Couldn´t resist taking a picture. -- Lars

Sneaking in just under the wire -- literally like two minutes ago, is Brian to win Bunny Invasion 2. Sorry Matt. Who will win the next challenge is anyone's guess. No seriously, it's anyone's guess. Can you guestimate better than I can? I guess not.

The More You Know.

A railgun is a purely electrical gun that accelerates a conductive projectile along a pair of metal rails using the same principles as the homopolar motor. Railguns use two sliding or rolling contacts that permit a large electric current to pass through the projectile. This current interacts with the strong magnetic fields generated by the rails and this accelerates the projectile. The U.S. Navy has tested a railgun that accelerates a seven pound projectile to seven times the speed of sound. But Quake III players already knew this, though.

The wife and I were at the Pirates/Red Sox game in Bradenton FL, at the Pirates facility, and saw this. Obviously he's a Pirates fan. No self respecting Red Sox fan would ever look like this. Watching this dude walk I can tell you he's not handicapped, unless being three grown men overweight and having six inches of visible asscrack is a handicap. MP

It has just been reported that the head gardener at The White House has been dismissed after 28 years of loyal service to several US presidents. When interviewed, the gardener protested his innocence and said, "All I did was go into the Oval Office and ask, 'Has anyone seen the spade and hoe?' Now I am fired!" Ha! Also, true story; last week the Britith Prime Minister gave President Obama a pen holder made out of timbers of a Victorian anti-slave ship (the HMS Gannet), the sister ship of the ship is the HMS Resolute, which the Oval Office desk was made out of. Obama's gift to the british Prime Minister? A box-set of 25 DVDs. Reallllllllllly classy.

Remember Ice Cube's father from the movie Friday (How in the hell you gonna get fired, on your day off?!). Well that's John Witherspoon. He's kind of like my dad, only black. Seriously. Here are John's thought on weed, New York, and Flavor Flav.

Time is like the wind, it lifts the light and leaves the heavy. ~Doménico Cieri Estrada

There is one kind of robber whom the law does not strike at, and who steals what is most precious to men: time. ~Napoleon I, Maxims, 1815

Time is the wisest counsellor of all. ~Pericles

Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires. ~Charles Caleb Colton

Time is what we want most, but... what we use worst. ~Willaim Penn

Time is an equal opportunity employer. Each human being has exactly the same number of hours and minutes every day. Rich people can't buy more hours. Scientists can't invent new minutes. And you can't save time to spend it on another day. Even so, time is amazingly fair and forgiving. No matter how much time you've wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow. ~Denis Waitely

Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils. ~Louis Hector Berlioz

There is no moment like the present. The man who will not execute his resolutions when they are fresh upon him can have no hope from them afterwards: they will be dissipated, lost, and perish in the hurry and scurry of the world, or sunk in the slough of indolence. ~Maria Edgeworth

We should be taught not to wait for inspiration to start a thing. Action always generates inspiration. Inspiration seldom generates action. ~Frank Tibolt

At sixteen I was stupid, confused and indecisive. At twenty-five I was wise, self-confident, prepossessing and assertive. At forty-five I am stupid, confused, insecure and indecisive. Who would have supposed that maturity is only a short break in adolescence? ~Jules Feiffer

Most people are in a factory from nine till five. Their job may be to turn out 263 little circles. At the end of the week they're three short and somebody has a go at them. On Saturday afternoons they deserve something to go and shout about. ~Rodney Marsh, 1969 [quotes culled from the quotegarden]

Took this pic at the St Louis Zoo the other day. Looks like Hung Like A Horse should be Hung Like A Zebra! DeanNutnfancy has hundreds of youtube videos. In them he reviews guns, knives, tactical gear, camping equipment.... etc. If you haven't run across his videos, check him out. Thanks for everything sir! Stumpworthy

Ernie - The low airliner videos were probably in Kowloon, Hong Kong. It was always interesting after a 12+ hour flight from the US to have a window seat, right at dusk and fly into that place... 45 Degree banks with buildings that close really made the pilots earn their keep. Thanks for the site! -Tim

I Love When Celebrities Die From Cancer.

Tomorrow will be seven years since my mother died from cancer. She was diagnosed on January 20th of 2002, and died a scant six weeks later that same year. I suppose one could look at such a short illness as rather merciful; the mother-in-law of a guy I worked with was diagnosed with cancer around the same time, and she lingered on for two years. And they weren't a good two years, if you know what I mean. Cancer is a horrific way to die. It's painful. It robs you of your dignity. And it makes your entire family watch. So four months after my mother passed away, when Sharon Osborne was diagnosed with and subsequently cured of cancer, I was furious. Why the fuck does she get to live when my mom didn't? Because she's got assloads of cash and can walk into the best medical facilities in the world and have the best doctors fall all over themselves as she scatters dollar bills around like rose petals?

Here are two things I believe about this world. First, I'm all for the rich and famous having their perks. The rich deserve the finer things in life, simply because they've worked harder for them. Bill Gates deserves to live in a bigger house than I do, because he's smarter than I am and recognized the potential in DOS. Diddy deserves his own private jet, because he's more creative than I am and knows how to market himself better. And if Paris wants a diamond encrusted dashboard because of her last name, then while she didn't exactly earn it I say all the power to her. Donald Trump can wear his hair combed over any fucking way that he wants, until someone with more money comes along and tells him to change it. Etc, etc.

And secondly, we are imperfect beings living in an imperfect world. Shit goes wrong. We're susceptible to cancer, ebola, AIDS, Parkinsons, multiple sclerosis, Alzheimers, diabetes and a thousand other diseases. That means sometimes nice people get sick and die. I'm cool with that, too.

I have a problem when the first thing directly impacts the second thing. When my mother got her biopsy results back and was told that she tested positive for cancer, you know when they started treatment? Two weeks later. That might now seem like a long time as you read some words on a screen, but when it's your name under "patient" trust me it's a long motherfucking time. Especially when those two weeks turned out to be one third of the time she had left.

Cancers are always defined in one of two parameters; either treatable or untreatable. That means at some point -- after a single malignant cancer cell becomes two cancer cells, which became four cancer cells, which become eight, etc... -- at some point it crosses the line between being a survivable cancer and becoming terminal cancer. At some point, it grows one single cancer cell too many and just like that, the host's fate is sealed. We don't live on the plains of Tanzania. Or the slums of New Dehli. Or the mountains of Afghanistan. We live right here in downtown USA. So what should happen -- what should happen -- if you're diagnosed with a specific type of cancer at 9:30 in the morning, you should be receiving your first dose of treatment no later than 10:30; maybe 11:00 if someone called in sick. So how treatment can be scheduled out two or three weeks after a cancer is identified, like you're just another head of cattle headed in for another dose of hormones? I just don't get it.

I have enjoyed your site for many many years, and finally had something worthy to contribute. Attached is a link to a popular NPR radio show called Wait Wait...Don't Tell me. The show for week February28 - March6, 2009 has a segment called "Not My Job" with guest Bruce "Motherfucking" Campbell. It's entertaining, and I hope you enjoy. Thanks again for the great website. slainte, Brian.

Here's a few fucked up pics from our vacation in Vegas - I knew Elmo was queer! Have a great one. JL.

Hey Ernie, I'm in a bit of a rush, so I'll make this short and sweet. I watch a lot of videos on this site. I'm sure you can figure it out. Quite a few ads on the site that piss you off as well, but worth your time once you get the video playing. (Ad-block Plus negates them). Here's the link to Taking Chance (DivX and Flash available). Have fun, Nate. ps, They are often under heavy traffic load during peak hours, so sometimes the DivX player will buffer for a while.

My solution to the Chris Brown/Rhianna thing is simple. She wants to take him back? No problem. Don't want to testify against him? Don't have to, that's chat's certainly your choice. I wish you both nothing but the best. But know this: if Rhianna (or any broad, for that matter) is fucking stupid enough to get back with their abuser, then much like double jeopardy, he can't be prosecuted for any violence against her in the future. I don't really know/care who Chris Brown is but as far as I'm concerned, he has my blessing to beat the ever loving shit out of Rhianna whenever and wherever he wants. In fact, if he beats the shit out of her in a police station, the only reason the cops should get involved is to issue Rhianna citation for disturbing the peace when she cries too loud. You put up with it? You deserve it.

Dear Microsoft: I Just Want To be Friends.

I just can't fucking do it anymore.

For years I've been one of the most steadfast holdouts on Internet Explorer. Everyone else has run off to Firefox, or Mozilla, or Chrome. But not me baby, not me. I didn't care if a page loaded two or three seconds faster, or if another browser provided better popup blocking. All I wanted was a reliable and functional browser. And at last report, you did too. In fact Internet Explorer still dominated 53% of the EHOWA market -- I'd show you a screencap of that statistic, but I can't get into my Google Analytics account right now. And how often has that happened to me? As of recently, an increasing number of times, that's how often. I've never hidden my opinion on Vista -- I think it sucks cock. It's Microsoft's worst gift to the internet since Microsoft Bob. It's the most unstable piece of shit operating system that Microsoft has put out since Windows 3.0. Both of them looked nice when you first start them up, but how many fucking crashes can one man take before being pretty isn't enough? And remember -- all those crashes are after having blown everything away with an OOBE last month.

So fuck it. Last night I downloaded and installed Internet Explorer 8 Beta. I figure fuck, how much worse can it get, right? Wrong. So to put an unstable browser on top of an unstable operating system? Chu-hoi, man. I give up. How many times do I have to end up with egg on my face before I make the switch like everyone else? I just can't take it anymore. Microsoft's relentless pursuit of unreliability has finally beaten me down. So Microsoft, this is it. I'm finally breaking up with you. As soon as I finish this post, I'm installing Firefox. For those of you who want to continue to subject yourselves to Microsoft's abuse? You're a better man than me.

Remember a year and a half ago, a guy got pranked at a Yankees game when his friend set up a fake marriage proposal between him and his girlfriend? Well, it took a year and a half, but refenge is finally at hand. Thanks to a little setup from Streeter, Amir makes a blindfolded half-court basketball shot for $500,000. Or so he thinks. This is fucking epic revenge and I'm ashamed to say it, Flaherty, but you and I don't hold a candle to these two fucking guys. I eagerly await Prank Wars 8.

From Flickr: A good friend of ours was amazingly kind enough to invite us to bowl in the two-lane alleys in the basement of the White House's Old Executive Office Building -- how do you say no to that? What an amazingly cool experience, and a fun time with good friends to boot.

Ernie, I love your website, but the last thing you need is someone else kissing your ass and telling you what a great job you are doing, so I'll just make this short. Thought you might like this - it relates to the CSI / David Caruso video you put up. Feel free to use it or simply ignore it. Craig

Paul Revere's midnight ride takes a detour through the armpit of the colonies - New Jersey. - David

Hello Ernie, Long time admirer!!! Almost going on 10+ years now.I missed the Chance movie,forgot to Tivo it even though I had written down on my calender since the day you mentioned it on the site.Now for the important question!!!!!!!! "Is it possible for you to ever put a link up to view it"? Or,is there ANY WAY ,OR ANYWHERE I CAN VIEW THE MOVIE ON THE INTERNET"???????????I really,really want to see it and cry myself to sleep!!!! I want to save it if possible too.The trailer shows such a wonderful movie,I've been kicking myself in the ass ever since I missed it!!!! Please help me(us) if you can!!!!!!!!!! I have faith in you Ernie!!!!! I always have!!!!! Your fan of E.H.O.W.A FOR A LONG,LONG TIME!!!!!!!! SILVERBULLET

Okay, first off, seriously, ALL CAPS? REALLY? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? IT'S REALLY PRETTY ANNOYING. Secondly, since HBO is a paid service, they don't make their shows available for online viewing like most of the public broadcasting stations do. I had hoped they might have made an exception for Taking Chance given the subject matter, but no dice. So your best bet is simply to catch a rebroadcasting of it. And while I can't openly help you, I will say that if you educate yourself on how bittorrents work, and then performed a search for "taking chance bittorrent" I'm sure you'll find something that can help you. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Don't throw out that old VCR! Join the digital revolution by hacking it. All you need is a screwdriver, scissors, and marshmallows. Hack it to find all kinds of goodies inside!

Oh, and a new game challenge. You play Mr Frost - a retired middle aged man. While he's in the pub enjoying a drink, a news flash informs him that a new army of evil bunnies are taking over the country once again. He must once again defend the nation from certain destruction. Bunny Invasion 2 is bursting with original content: 60 levels, over 2 hours of game-play, 10 cut scenes, 10 types of bunny, 3 bosses, 13 weapons to buy along with multiple upgrades for each weapon, 8 general upgrades, A trophy collection system, 58 in total, along with A HUGE amount of extras, 26 of which can be unlocked using the trophies. Think of it the Last Stand, only with suicide bomber bunnies. And I'm not kidding. Sweet justice. Sweet 416,000 points of justice.

Just So I'm Not Hogging All The Attention.

Hey Ernie, I've sent some stuff in the past... so here is my annual contribution (maybe). In response to the link "What Happens When You Crash During a Test Drive". I am stationed in Germany, near Frankfurt. The Autobahn 5 is big for testing out concept cars for Porsche, Mercedes, BMW, etc. They tape the cars up so you can't tell what they are, then go test drive them. The people test driving them are professionals. This happened a few weeks ago. I know it is in german, but look at the pics. Bottom line is this: 911 Cabrio Pre-Production Prototype + High Speed + Guardrail = 1 Dead German Testdriver. Oh... and thanks for the Celine Dion AC/DC link... bastard. I am scarred for life. I actually vomited in my mouth. Chris [Ernie says: here are two additional links providing more information on this crash. 1 - 2]

Ernie, I know you probably don't believe the subject of this e-mail ["Lobster Seually Assaults Woman"], but just look at the attached photo for proof. Regards, Jason [Ernie says: NSFW photo]

Hi Ernie, this is the first time ive sent you an e-mail, and i'll admit im pretty lazy, so i sent it to the first e-mail address i found on your site. Hopefully it reaches you. In reguards to the "Sledge Hockey" fight that was shown today (march 3/09). It should realy get a lot more credit than just being "Tame", as not only do the players only have use and control of the upper halves of thier body's, but the blades on the bottom of the sledge are razor sharp, litteraly, and the little sticks they hold in both hands are not only small versions of the composite sticks that poeple use, but also have a bunch of sharp built in spikes on the but end of both sticks that they use to push themselfs forward. all in all, it could be a DEADLY COMBINATION. Thanks for all the entertainment, Dan.

Ernie, First of all I would like to say that I truly appreciate you, your site, and all that you stand for. As far as the comments about Chance and LtCol Stroblâ€™s medals and ribbons, our beloved Corps has an order dictating the proper wear and order of all medals, ribbons and devices. After referencing it again for the 15th time in my short 14 year career, I discovered that the LtCol was wearing his medals and ribbons correctly in the movie (sorry, Commander Dan). When the Marine wears the Blue/White dress "A" uniform (the one with medals and ribbons) the wearer will move the ribbons directly across they are not flipped to be closest to the heart. That is something that young officers are taught to remind them in Officer Candidate School how to wear ribbons normally. If anyone else would like to reference this please feel free to look up MCO 1020.34G (dated 31Mar03) section 5104, paragraph 2, sub paragraph l. If that isn't clear enough for some people please check out section 5202, paragraph 3 entitled "Wearing ribbons with large medals". Just thought that I would share the facts with you and your readers. Please keep up the great stuff. Semper Fidelis,SSgt D

Ernie, long time reader and fan of the site. I found this website. It has a bunch of neat photos of old and historic buildings. I don't know if it's something you would put in the daily link posts or not. I just thought it was pretty neat. Bill [Ernie says: wow, the first time I was arrested was for tresspassing in buildings just like these.]

Hey Ernie, Love the site. Keep up the great work. After watching Taking Chance and crying like a fucking little girl, I’ve committed to an annual donation to the LBEH fund. Thanks for all that you do. I thought you and your readers might like this site - It’s daily newspapers from all over the world. You can convert them to .pdf files for easy reading on the crapper. Look at the far left side of Germany and the you’ll see the American version of Stars & Stripes. Thanks – Brad, California [Ernie says: my old Rochester newspaper, yay!]

The Financial Crisis Explained In Simple Terms.

Heidi is the proprietor of a bar. In order to increase sales, she decides to allow her loyal customers - most of whom are unemployed alcoholics - to drink now but pay later. She keeps track of the drinks consumed on a ledger (thereby granting the customers loans). Word gets around and as a result increasing numbers of customers flood into Heidi's bar. Taking advantage of her customers' freedom from immediate payment constraints, Heidi increases her prices for wine and beer, the most-consumed beverages. Her sales volume increases massively. A young and dynamic customer service consultant at the local bank recognizes these customer debts as valuable future assets and increases Heidi's borrowing limit. He sees no reason for undue concern since he has the debts of the alcoholics as collateral. At the bank's corporate headquarters, expert bankers transform these customer assets into DRINKBONDS, ALKBONDS and PUKEBONDS. These securities are then traded on markets worldwide. No one really understands what these abbreviations mean and how the securities are guaranteed. Nevertheless, as their prices continuously climb, the securities become top-selling items. One day, although the prices are still climbing, a risk manager (subsequently of course fired due his negativity) of the bank decides that slowly the time has come to demand payment of the debts incurred by the drinkers at Heidi's bar. However they cannot pay back the debts. Heidi cannot fulfill her loan obligations and claims bankruptcy. DRINKBOND and ALKBOND drop in price by 95%. PUKEBOND performs better, stabilizing in price after dropping by 80%. The suppliers of Heidi's bar, having granted her generous payment due dates and having invested in the securities are faced with a new situation. Her wine supplier claims bankruptcy, her beer supplier is taken over by a competitor. The bank is saved by the Government following dramatic round-the-clock consultations by leaders from the governing political parties. The funds required for this purpose are obtained by a tax levied on the non-drinkers. Finally an explanation I understand.

Were you ever a Boy Scout? I was. Made it to the rank of Star before the troop folded. But I still remember my Boy Scout Oath, too. "On my honor, I will do my best, to do my duty to God and my Country and to obey the Scout Law; To help other people at all times; To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight."

Hey man, I think I'm moving to Florida. This Michigan weather is bad for my health! I just got done rebuilding the carbs and adjusting the valves on my 96' Kawasaki ZX1100e(aka GPz1100). So, I decided to take it for a spin! Mind you, it's 22 degrees out. So, I put on a couple layers, my leather, helmet, and snowmobile gloves, and head out. I didn't make it very far though. I went around a turn going 25-ish, and my ass-end slid right out from under me!! Sent me skidding across the pavement, in front of a couple of cars! Luckily, I didn't get hit, and I escaped with a bruised hip, knee, ribs, and ego. It scraped my bike up a bit though. Time for a paint job! If you're ever out on your bike anywhere when it's below 30 out... Don't ride with sport tires. They have about as much traction as those shitty plastic wheels on your Power Wheels Jeep you had when you were a kid. Alan

As I reminisced about Will Ferrel's work in Old School, it reminded me of another recent classic sex comedy - Wedding Crashers. There's no shortage of great moments in that movie, but this scene featuring Vince Vaughn's rant about the joys of "motorboating" is one of the best.

Generation RX is a film by international award winning filmmaker, Kevin P. Miller. It is about families who confronted horror and found nowhere to turn for help - and how scores of children have been caught in the vortex of mind-bending drugs at the earliest stages of their growth and development. This powerful documentary also questions whether we have forced millions of children onto pharmaceutical drugs for commercial rather than scientific reasons. Ultimately, Generation RX may help parents decide whether the perceived benefits of these medications outweigh the serious risks to children.